Homesick
by annikilynn
Summary: Kirk decides to take a much-needed shore leave...on Vulcan. He claims to want a change of surroundings, but Spock is highly skeptical!
1. Chapter 1

"Eets out of my control, keptin. The wessels are interfering with ze communicason."

"Speak English, for God's sake, Chekov."

Chekov's face fell and he focused on the board in front of him. "Sorry, keptin."

"Eh, I'm just messing with you, buddy. Put up the shields."

"But keptin, we are not under atteck."

"I know, but any time we don't have contact with the Federation we are at more of a risk for attack. Shields up," Kirk said, leaning back in his chair and crossing his legs. He rubbed his jaw sleepily.

"Aye."

The door to the bridge wheezed open and a Vulcan figure hesitated at the entrance, his hands tucked neatly behind his back. "Permission to enter, captain?"

"I told you to call me Jim, Spock. Granted."

Spock's eyebrow twitched up for a split second before retreating to the normal, still unsettling height. He took calm, lengthy steps and positioned himself at his captain's side, like usual.

"Spock, what's it like on Vulcan?" Kirk asked suddenly, uncrossing his legs and planting both feet on the floor. His gaze was fixed on some invisible object through the glass screen, out into the stars. Spock knew better than to question what his captain was looking at. What Bones had called "zoning out" was a purely human antic, and Vulcans did no such thing.

"Well, our planet consists mostly of deserts and mountain ranges, and the surface gravity is much larger than that on earth. The atmosphere of the planet is exactly..."

"No, Spock," Kirk said tiredly, his eyes never moving from space. "Tell me about the people. What's it like there?"

"The population of Vulcan is relatively low, therefore it is vital that our culture be preserved. For this purpose, we have Elders responsible for..."

"God, Spock, you're impossible," Kirk growled, slamming his fist into the armrest of his chair. His eyes tore from their point of fixation and rested upon the Vulcan's alert brown ones. "How do the people interact? How do they treat each other? Are they accepting? Envious? Star-crossed lovers? Do they dance in fields of wheat? All I want to know, Spock, is how they compare to the people on earth. I've only ever met you and older, creepier future Spock, and I want to know more. I'm sick and tired of this place," he said, waving haphazardly at the scattering of planets seen through the window. His wave was wide ranged, but Spock made the logical assumption that his captain was talking about planet Earth.

After a moment of silence in which none of the people on the bridge spoke a single word, the Vulcan cleared his throat and met Kirk's eyes. His captain's expression immediately softened.

"Captain, Vulcans are always accepting. Our people are tightly knit and extremely trustworthy. Envy and lust are not known to our race. And we most certainly do not dance in fields of wheat."

Kirk stared into Spock's eyes for a moment, and his mouth curled up slightly into a smile. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. Spock knew he had answered correctly.

"Take me there."

The Vulcan stepped back, genuinely confused. "But, Captain, you have always expressed to me your hatred of hot, humid places."

"I know, Spock."

"You have also continuously referred to the Vulcan race as 'heartless' and 'disturbingly robotic'"

"I know, Spock."

"And to me as a 'pointy-eared bastar—"

"God, can we just get over that already? I want to go to Vulcan, Spock. Call it a shore leave. I need a change of people. A change of scenery. Is that so hard to process?"

Spock pondered for a moment and concluded that yes, it was hard to process, considering the multiple facts he was presented with. He opened his mouth to make this known to his captain, but Kirk stopped him immediately.

"Don't even say another word. Sulu, are we safe from attack?"

"I'd say we are for now, Captain. Communication is still down."

"Understood. How long would it take to get from here to Vulcan?"

"We can reach Vulcan in about a day if we go at warp two."

"Very well. Set course to Vulcan. We're taking a shore leave."

A collective sigh of relief was heard from all the members on board. Uhura reached up and stretched her arms over her head, a small smile on her face. Kirk had forgotten when the last shore leave was, and he silently reprimanded himself for not giving his hard-working crew a break earlier. They were certainly deserving of it.

"Course is set, Captain. We are currently on our way to Vulcan," Sulu announced. Kirk beamed at Spock, who still wore an expression of confusion.

"Come on, Spock. Let go of the logic for a little while. You'll get to see your mom and dad, the crew gets a shore leave, and I get to check out the planet. It's simple."

But Spock wasn't so sure. There was something in Kirk's eyes and in his flushed cheeks that suggested it was anything but simple. But the Captain had said to let go of the logic, and it was what Spock had to do.

He always had, and always would, respect his Captain's orders.

* * *

"Well, here we are. Hot, humid, red, and rocky," Bones grumbled as he stepped out of the shuttlecraft and was hit with a blast of warm, stuffy air. "Who's brilliant idea was this for a shore leave?"

"It was Jim's," Scotty murmured. "Ya know he's a wee bit unpredictable. But he's a damn good captain, ey?"

Bones mumbled something that sounded like a sarcastic agreement, but Scotty was already unloading cases from the ship's hold.

"Eet sure is hot here," Chekov said quietly as a bead of sweat fell from his face. He heaved a large bag onto his lanky shoulders and started padding across the sand, making his way to where a cluster of Vulcans in white robes had gathered at the top of the hill. "I hope they have air condisioning."

Spock strode ahead confidently as the crew stalled behind him, not bothered at all by the heat. He was home, and that was all that mattered. When he reached the top and saw his family in front of him, a flash of human emotion sparked inside of him. He was happy. This was what happy felt like. He raised his hand in the typical Vulcan greeting, but his mother rushed forward and enveloped him in a tight hug. His father simply smiled over his mother's shoulder.

"Welcome home, Spock," Sarek said, his voice just as unwavering and powerful as Spock had remembered it. He reached over to gently pull his wife's arms from around his son and stepped back, allowing Spock first entrance into the tunnel home. With one look back at the rest of the crew following close behind his captain, Spock ducked through the steel door.

Many familiar faces greeted him, emotionless but acknowledging. He walked slowly through the halls, winding around the great statues of his Elders to where he recalled his home pod being. He placed his palm flat on the little screen next to the door, and it hissed and slid open, allowing him in. The smell of his childhood washed over him and Spock almost had to sit down.

There, in that corner, was where he had played mind games as a teenager. Over there was the simple, comfortable bed where he slept, and right behind that was the tiny glass panel he used for communication back when it was logically acceptable to have one. Stacks of old, torn, earth books lay on his bedside table, for even as a child Spock had a sort of fascination with the full extent of human emotion and behavior. He took slow steps in figure eights around the circular room, running his hands over every object, feeling the dust that still lay there. A small knock echoed from the inside of the doorframe and he motioned for the visitor to come in without ever looking up.

"Hey there," Kirk said, stepping inside and looking around with his hands folded neatly behind his back. "Your mother said I could come in. Is that alright?"

"Of course, Captain. I was just reliving my teenage years."

Kirk smirked and stared at the logic books on the counter. "You were a nerd, weren't you?"

Spock raised an eyebrow and sat down on the edge of his bed. Kirk joined him.

"Captain, I must remind you that all Vulcan children value greatly the importance of education."

"Yeah, yeah. Just making small talk."

There was a brief uncomfortable silence in which the two men sat stiffly on the bed. Finally, Spock fell backwards onto the pillow and closed his eyes, taking a deep breath in and letting it out much slower than any human possibly could. Kirk just watched him as he lay there in what appeared to be a deep sleep.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, please. I am still capable of talking. There are things I would like to discuss with you," Spock said clearly, his eyes still closed. He wound his arms behind his head so that his pale blue uniform stretched across his muscles. "To begin with, I would like to know why you insisted we take a shore leave on Vulcan while under the threat of a potential Klingon attack."

Kirk laughed softly and rubbed the back of his neck. "You weren't buying the 'I just need a break' story, weren't you?"

"I most certainly was not," Spock said. "It was, as you would call it, bullshit."

"Way to go with the colorful metaphors, Spock."

"I learn from the best, Jim."

Kirk smiled as he heard his first name come from Spock's mouth. He hoped this meant that they were becoming closer.

"Well, I guess there's no use bullshitting anymore now that we're actually here, and the crew's all settled in. You were looking restless up there. Forgetting things, which I know you never do, and constantly pacing back and forth nervously. At first I just thought it was your time of the...seven years," Kirk said slowly, watching Spock's face. A small flicker of discomfort had broken the Vulcan's otherwise marble figure, and Kirk continued quickly. "But I cross checked the days and you aren't due for another year or two. So I just figured, you're half human. Humans get homesick. And you, Spock, were homesick."

Spock lay there silently, taking this all in. It was the first time his captain had expressed concern for his well being to this extent. "If I had known that this expedition was entirely for my pleasure, I would have-"

"Never allowed it, I know. That's why I lied to you. You deserve this, Spock. You work so hard up there. Consider it a gift."

The Vulcan opened his eyes and looked into the Captain's glowing hazel ones. Warmth rushed through him, relief, gratitude, and something else that he couldn't quite place. He pushed himself up and the bed creaked under his adult weight.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. Now what the hell is there to do on bloody Vulcan?"

* * *

"Holy shit, this game is impossible," Bones said, bending over the glass computer. Sweat dripped down his face and his shoulder muscles strained as he gripped the sides of the screen, eyes boring into the blue words that danced across it.

"Please memorize the location of the spheres on this screen. You have ten seconds," a robotic voice chirped. Bones shook his head and his eyes darted around, trying to capture the location of the hundreds of dots before him. A timer beeped and the image was ripped away, replaced instead with a blank white board.

"Please tap the location of all two hundred and eighty one spheres as they were seen previously."

Another beep sounded and Bones got to work, frantically touching the screen and wincing whenever a low buzz indicated that he had made an error. His fingers moved slowly and clumsily, slipping and leaving long, greasy smudges. A bell indicated that his time was up, and he stared disbelievingly at the final result. About forty blue dots were revealed, and the two hundred and forty one other red ones glared at him where he had missed. He sighed and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "I guess Vulcan games just aren't for me."

"Vulcan games can be for anyone," a soft voice said behind him, and Bones jumped out of his seat. His phaser fell to the floor, and when he went to pick it up, his communicator dropped along with it. He scrambled around, attempting to gather his things, grumbling something about this being one hell of a shore leave. When he finally looked up, his heart stopped.

There, standing in front of him, was the most beautiful Vulcan girl he had ever seen.

She was tall, lean, and elegant, wearing her hair in one long, dark trailing braid down her left shoulder. A small piece of hair was curled flawlessly over her pointed ear, and her pale skin shone with a slight blue undertone. She wore a flowing gown made of thin, shimmering material that fell behind her back in waves. Bones fought to keep his jaw hinged as she looked down at him with some sort of twisted Vulcan amusement and extended her arm.

"May I help you up?" she asked, her voice as smooth as honey. He slowly reached up and took her hand, allowing her to pull him to his feet. Up close, the lines and curves of her face were even more delicate.

"I don't believe we've met," he stammered, impossible game forgotten. He could feel the color rising to his cheeks as he held onto her hand for a little while longer.

"My name is Janikrei. And you are?"  
"Leonard. Leonard McCoy."

"Noted," she said. "I see that you are having issues completing the fourth grade Vulcan memory exam."

"Fourth grade?" Bones sputtered, glancing back at the screen. "You people do that in fourth grade?"

Janikrei smiled slyly. "I myself completed it in third."

"Jesus," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "I just can't find anything to do on this planet. I remember Spock telling me about Vulcan school, and one of the Elders showed me this building...and I figured why the hell not?"

"Vulcan games are very challenging for other races. Trust me, we have experimented. Would you like to come back to my pod and have a drink? You look thoroughly worn out."

A drink sure sounded nice to Bones. His throat was parched, and the air conditioning system within the building had done little to quench the raging heat. He was suddenly acutely aware of the sweat pouring down his back and leaving sticky trails on his neat uniform, and was more eager than ever to follow the Vulcan girl.

"That would be great, thanks," he told Janikrei, and she gave a slight nod and turned towards the exit, her dress splaying out behind her. Bones sauntered after, a silly grin plastered on his face.

Later, in a small chair in the Vulcan girl's pod, Doctor Leonard McCoy sipped halfheartedly at a small glass of ice water. He was craving something stronger, something to take the edge off of his nerves and his mind off of the hot hell he was stranded on. Janikrei noticed his discomfort.

"I understand that you were hoping for something else, but I'm afraid that I cannot provide any. My father's race was spared the joyous benefits of alcohol."

Bones smiled and nodded, waving away her apology. "You sound just like Spock," he murmured, almost disappointedly.

"That would be logical, considering that I am his sister."

Bones straightened immediately, staring at Janikrei in disbelief. He took another hesitant sip of the water, eyebrows raised as high as a Vulcan's.

"I do not understand your surprise," she said coolly, an unreadable expression on her face. Bones quickly backpedaled.

"Oh, no, it's just hard to imagine that the great Spock has a sister," he said, trying to calm his shaking leg. "Especially one as beautiful as you."

Janikrei showed no reaction to his compliment, but hell, what was he expecting? She showed less emotion than the average earth ant.

"Thank you," she said, reaching for her own glass on the small circular table between them. "Spock does like to give off an authoritative air that suggests he is utterly independent and in control of his emotions. The fact that he has a twin sister who has the full Vulcan capabilities of Kolinahr makes him feel an emotion not known to our race."

"Jealousy?" Bones mused.

"Indeed."

"So let me get this straight," he said, leaning forward in his seat. "Spock's jealous of his own sister because she has no emotion, wheras he doesn't have a choice?"

"That is correct. Please, do not misunderstand. Spock is a very kind, caring brother. He does not lie about me nor try to hide me from the rest of the universe. He simply does not prefer to bring it up or have it brought up."

"Makes sense," Bones said quietly, allowing his gaze to roam her face again. This time their eyes met a little longer. He decided to take a chance.

"Janikrei, I know that Vulcans have mates and everything, but do you ever, say, date? Purely for logical experience or some shit?"

Either Bones was hallucinating due to the heat, or the Vulcan woman in front of him blushed ever so slightly. His mouth twitched up into a smile.

"Yes, Vulcans do experiment with dating in the off years of Pon Farr. It's common among the teenage and early adulthood years, and is a very popular form of social activity."

"Well, in that case," Bones said, getting up from his seat. "Would you like to go on a date with me? It's only logical."

After a momentary pause, Janikrei stood up as well. "It's only logical."

* * *

Sulu arched back from the rubber knife and kicked it away from his opponent's hand, a boyish grin spreading across his face. His opponent recovered quickly and thrust another tightly closed fist at the commander's face, which Sulu dodged expertly. One more powerful kick to the side of the head, and the Vulcan was down.

"I never pegged Vulcans as the sporty type," he said excitedly, extending an arm to help his expressionless opponent from the ground. His grip was sweaty, and his pointed ears were red at the tips.

"We aren't," the Vulcan said simply. "It is only a logical pastime to try and maintain a basic level of fitness and personal health."

"Well, that was fun. Thanks."

"It was not a problem."

Sulu bowed his head slightly and walked away, bubbling over with joy at the sparring match. He stepped into the guest pod and toweled himself off, taking a moment to enjoy the rocky view from the small, perfectly square window by his bed. Simplicity was the kind of thing Sulu had been secretly craving since he had joined Starfleet. The intense space missions brought adrenaline into his body, that was for sure, but it wasn't every day that he got to do exactly what he, Hikatu Sulu, wanted to do. He was making the most of it.

The communicator on his bed purred and chirped, and Sulu ignored it, looking out the window and throwing his towel to the side. The entire crew had been instructed to ignore any calls coming in for the purpose of relaxation, and Sulu was more than happy to comply. The Federation could be so needy and melodramatic these days. It was most likely just to ask why the Enterprise had gone off of its scheduled course and was instead in orbit around Vulcan.

They were allowed a little break now and again, weren't they?

The communicator finally stopped beeping and Sulu changed his clothes in a few swift motions. He downed the glass of water on his bedside table and strode out the room, more than ready for sparring match number two.

* * *

Spock was enjoying his shore leave very much.

The atmosphere and quiet, simple nods of his fellow people settled like a blanket over him, comforting and well missed. He spent most of his hours walking through the darkened tunnels, letting the memories of his childhood and early adulthood play like a reel of film in his mind.

Often, in those segments of film, he saw his sister. Twin Vulcans, one with human emotion and one without, speaking to each other intelligently, engaging in meaningless playful one-sided combat, studying for the annual exams together.

He felt a brief pang of sadness as he recalled how they were separated when he left for Starfleet. He hadn't seen her since.

For some illogical reason that Spock couldn't put his finger on, he didn't see his sister right away when he had arrived on his home planet. It felt more comfortable to delay the visit. There were too many things left unsaid that had to be said, too many emotions he was fighting down that he wanted to make known to her. He knew that by delaying the meeting he was expressing an act of selfishness, but Spock decided to let this one time slide. His captain was right: every now and again, letting go of the logic was for the better.

Spock wound his way back through the tunnels and stopped by the door, breathing in the hot air he knew so well. He caught a brief glimpse of his sister walking side-by-side with Bones, and he shook his head, stepping back so that he was half-hidden in the shadows. He watched the way his sister moved gracefully, her face flat and her mouth in a tight line as Bones laughed and danced around her. Spock touched his own mouth with a few fingers, remembering what it felt like to smile. His sister would never experience something like that. He dropped his hand.

Jealousy always snaked its way into his system whenever he thought about Janikrei, with her ability to block out all emotion from her life. When Spock's captain was dying in the radiation room after their encounter with Khan, he remembered feeling tears slipping down his faint blue cheeks, and the ache of something heavy resting upon his chest. In that moment, Spock had felt pain greater than any pain he had ever known. The agony had brought him to his knees.

He never wanted to feel that again. His sister never would.

But then again, at moments like these, he recalled the feeling of happiness and excitement when he discovered that Kirk had been revived. If he hadn't felt that, either, he would have been a coldhearted, selfish creature.

Spock put his head in his hands. He couldn't have one without the other. That was just how things worked. How utterly illogical, that he was born with this curse, that an imbalance such as this was present in his life.

It was now time, he thought, to see his sister.

* * *

Kirk collapsed exhaustedly on the stiff couch, frowning as he tried to find a comfortable position. Even the couches on Vulcan had no give. To be truthful, he hated this awful planet. Every inch of it was a hot, sweaty hell, every movement wildly uncomfortable. But Spock was happy, and that was all that mattered.

He rolled over onto the rock-hard pillow and closed his eyes, sighing as his muscles stretched. His feelings for Spock were best described under one wobbly word: complicated. How he felt about Spock was more than gay, much more _complicated _than gay. A strange kind of warmth foreign to the captain blossomed inside his chest every time their eyes met, and Kirk felt as is he should be utterly devoted to the Vulcan, as opposed to the other way around.

But Spock, more his father's child than his mother's, most likely did not see the logic in love. Love was a disease that spread and attacked, taking victims along the way and leaving the rest sore and limping, doomed to wander around aimlessly until their souls healed.

It wasn't exactly the sort of thing that the Vulcan race would think twice about.

But Spock...

Spock wasn't entirely alien, and that gave Kirk an ounce of hope that he refused to let go of. Maybe somewhere in that computer-like mind of his rested the potential of love.

As if reading his thoughts, Spock burst into the room, sending Kirk to his feet immediately, shooting up off of the couch. Spock's pale face was bluer than normal, and he leaned against the doorframe, panting.

"What is it?" Kirk's cheeks flushed, and he palmed a spattering of sweat away from his forehead with the back of his hand. Spock didn't seem to notice. His laser-like eyes had been briefly disrupted and diverted by a flicker of panic.

"Spock?" Kirk's voice wavered nervously now.

"It's Nero," the Vulcan stated, his hands wrenching together, knuckles popping. "He's here."

* * *

Those four words propelled Kirk from love-struck man to Enterprise Captain in an instant. His face grew rigid, serious, and his fists balled at his sides.

"What is Nero's business here?" Cold. Urgent.

Spock stiffened, sensing his Captain's shift, and straightened his back slightly. "He wishes to speak to me, Captain. What do you suggest I do?"

"What is the logical thing to do, Spock?"

Spock believed for a second that he had misheard his captain. He stepped forward and tipped a pointed ear in Kirk's direction. "I beg your pardon?"

"Just think logically. Is it safe for you to speak to him?"

Spock considered this momentarily. "Not at all."

"Then what is the logical thing to do?"

The Vulcan hesitated. "Well..."

"Don't hesitate, Spock. Just say the first thing that comes to your mind."

"I believe we should seek safety on the ship. Even if we are not in orbit, we will still have access to our thrusters and weapons and be able to make an emergency escape if necessary. We speak to him through hail."

Kirk nodded thoughtfully and checked for his phaser, his forehead crinkling. "That's a good plan. Round up the crew and we'll head out."


	2. Chapter 2

The Captain boarded his ship carefully and appreciatively. Spock was already on board, fidgeting anxiously as he stood his ground and lifted the communicator to his lips. Kirk's eyes trailed the path of the device and rested slightly on the Vulcan's mouth, tracing the contours there. He quickly gained his composure and looked away.

"Attention, Starfleet, please board the Enterprise effective immediately," Spock said. His ears flushed as he met the Captain's gaze. "Captain's orders," he added, dropping the machine on the table. The entire room buzzed with nervous energy, and Kirk shivered.

"Hail him," he demanded. Spock dipped his head in a nod and complied.

The crew members began filing in one-by-one, their expressions perfectly unreadable. Whether it was anxiety, annoyance, or excitement, no one could tell. They all took their rightful places behind the computers and thrusters, preparing for the worst-case scenario. _In which we would have to flee, _thought Kirk. _And possibly never return._

Nero answered the hail in a whirl of static and glitching colors. His tattooed face looked down with disdain upon the frightened crew. Spock swallowed his fears.

"Y-you wish to speak with me, Nero?" the Captain began, but was quickly dismissed with a noncommittal wave of Nero's hand. The giant looming face on the screen instead turned towards the stunned Vulcan.

"I come with a warning from the future," he boomed. Spock stood statue-still and gaped. His ears turned very blue, and the Captain suddenly felt an overwhelming desire to touch and comfort the man. He made no move to.

"Your future self spoke to me yesterday. He made it clear to me that your planet is in imminent danger. Twice in the first dimension, Vulcan has been destroyed."

"Destroyed," Spock murmured stonily. His thoughts were no doubt occupied with the memories of his childhood that he had so recently relived.

Nero's eyes narrowed. He cleared his throat and continued.

"In that dimension, my future self has been the one to destroy it."

At this point, Spock broke. He leapt towards the looming face and emitted a deep sound of agony and anger, driving the Captain to reach over and hold the Vulcan back from tearing up the screen. Spock writhed and tore against him, but the Captain held his ground. Eventually Spock became limp with the efforts and sank into the Captain's arms, hopeless.

Kirk looked up at the screen, eyes flashing. "What's your purpose here, other than to torment us with this information? Damn it..." he hissed, dragging Spock over to a chair to let him rest. "You have no idea what this guy has already been through today."

Nero looked right through them. His eyes held something Kirk had never seen in him before: pity.

"I apologize. But before any drastic action is taken, my reasoning needs to be heard."

Chekov gulped and opened his mouth to speak, but Kirk hushed him. He turned to face Nero and glared at him.

"This reasoning better be good, because if you're playing some sick game here, I'll blow you up faster than you can say 'oops'."

Nero shook his head. "In the first dimension, stardate 2837, Romulan was destroyed. Our people felt the Vulcans were ultimately responsible. We exiled your elders, including you, Spock, and destroyed your planet as revenge."

Spock's shoulders began to shake in anger. He slumped in the chair, drained, and glared at the Romulan. Nero hastily continued.

"In that very same dimension, Stardate 2233, I traveled back in time to try and stop Romulan from being destroyed. I had no means of discovering you yet, so I became trapped in the past, destined to float aimlessly in space waiting for you to come. When you arrived in stardate 2258, I destroyed your planet and made my move towards earth. You suctioned me in a black hole before I could eliminate the rest of your people."

Kirk's eyes widened. How was this all possible? The rest of the crew had becoming disturbingly silent.

"This current time period, right here, is the second dimension. It was created when I survived the black hole, and I was launched into an alternate reality, a different dimension. You and your crew are the result of a future gone awry. In this dimension, my planet has not yet been destroyed, and neither has yours. I am here to warn you. And to demand your help."

The ship was entirely quiet for a moment. Spock straightened in his seat and weakly began to speak.

"What do you want from us?"  
Kirk whirled around in disbelief. "You're going to trust this guy?"

Spock turned to him with a logical eye. "His level of detail is far too extraordinary to believe he is lying, Captain. And I would rather not take the risk."

Kirk snorted, but his weakening resolve gave the Vulcan a silent go-ahead to speak again.

"What do you want from us?"  
"I need you to do what the Federation promised to do: save Romulan. If our planet is saved, my future selves will never feel the need to achieve revenge. This way, all is spared."

Spock stood, rejuvenated with determination and a cold sort of emotion. Kirk had noticed that same look in the Vulcan's eyes before—it was one that couldn't be contained, couldn't be stopped. The Vulcan would do whatever Nero demanded of him if it meant saving his home planet.

"Captain, I would like permission to follow this Romulan's orders in addition to yours," Spock asked quietly, his eyes never leaving the screen. Kirk hesitated.

"Captain," Spock repeated respectfully. Kirk sighed and put his head in his hands.

"Granted, Spock. Now how are we going to do this?"


End file.
